the learning process
by astarisms
Summary: Michael's new to this. Natalie is too, but he doesn't have to know that. For a fic trade on tumblr.


"No, no," she says, a smile curving against his lips. "Not like that." She takes his hands in hers and guides them back down over her sides, down her hips, and lower still until she feels the heat of his blush against her cheeks. Hers are a little warm, too, but she's not going to let that stop her. His fingers finally settle over the curve of her ass, flexing nervously, and she sounds a little breathless when she encourages, "Like that."

She releases Michael's hands, and leans up to rock against him. She moans, loud and unabashed, shameless in her pleasure. He moans, lower and choked, hesitant about his.

He's never done this before. He has little idea what he's doing, but he wants this to be good, for both of them. Thankfully, Natalie seems to know exactly what she wants, and she's not afraid to show him.

She's doing all of the work, really — she's showing him where to put his hands and telling him where to kiss, but it's her thighs on either side of his hips that lift her until all that remains of his cock inside of her is the head and bring her back down until her slick, warm walls are wrapped completely around him, making him lightheaded with a pleasure he'd never come close to experiencing before.

He can't remember how they got here past the warm daze of ecstasy. All he remembers is Natalie smiling at him, he remembers the sweet press of her lips, he remembers being nervous at his inexperience, he remembers Natalie reassuring him that she would help.

Truth be told, she's not really sure what she's doing, either. She has more of an idea of what she's doing than he does, definitely, but she's mostly just guessing as she goes, too. She's testing what feels good and if the crease between his brows and the tip of his head and the grip he's got on her waist is anything to go by, she's doing something right.

That's the thing about Natalie — she may not know what she's doing but she's not afraid to tackle it head on and learn, unafraid of failure. It's what makes her so inexplicably human.

It's something Michael respected watching them from afar, but something he admired much more watching her up close. The superficial love of humanity he'd held for millennia paled in comparison to the things this tiny singular one with a smile too bright and a laugh too loud incited in him.

"Move your hips more, too," she instructs gently, and he falters. He moves his hands back up to her hips to get a better grip on her, and his timing is off at first. He messes her up and she laughs. She's patient with him, waiting until he finds his rhythm again and matching that instead of trying to find their old one.

It's a give and take and Natalie is more than willing to give, give, give. It's who she is, but she's not afraid to take, too. She's strange like that — she gives all she's got and she takes all she can get. In his experience, humans are primarily one or the other, either too modest to take what they want or too greedy to care about others, but Natalie is neither. She's some odd balance of both.

It was even apparent in the here and now, with the way she'd taken the lead when he'd arrived and had him under her now, but she was still so patient, teaching him, learning with him the way that their bodies moved together best. She wasn't an expert by any means, she was messing up, too, but she could own up to her mistakes and instead of being embarrassed by them, she plowed on with an enthusiasm unrivaled.

Her philosophy was that she'd already messed up, so the only way to go now was forward. She had to do something right eventually, and she wasn't afraid of the learning process.

Once they're both comfortable in this new rhythm, Natalie leans forward to kiss him. It's sloppy and both of them are panting, Michael admittedly a little moreso at the world of sensation he hadn't known existed before her, so Natalie turns her attention to his jaw and his throat, curling her fingers into the sheets to steady herself.

He moans, his fingers digging into her hips where he's still got a grip on her, and she gasps against his skin. Her head is swimming now the closer she inches towards that precipice, and she can tell Michael is getting close, too; his thrusts, which had been unpracticed before, were becoming erratic now.

Natalie leans up again, and her knees beginning to hurt but she's eager for him to hit that peak. She wants to hit it with him. She reaches down herself before she realizes that he's all but at her disposable and he's as willing to learn about her body as she's willing to teach him.

She grabs his hand instead, pulling it from her hip and guiding it down. He goes a little slack jawed watching her, the ecstatic crease between his eyebrows deepening in confusion. She lays her fingers over his to show him how and the first brush of her clit has her tossing her head back and moaning with abandon. She clenches around him and his own moan gets caught, strangled, in the back of his throat.

He decides promptly that he likes the reaction such a simple movement causes. Natalie shows him what she likes and Michael eagerly picks it up himself, her hand sliding away to balance herself on top of him.

"Like this?" he asks breathlessly, the first time he's spoken since they started, and Natalie's frantic nod and panting breaths are the only affirmation he needs. She's teetering dangerously now, and Michael's right there with her.

Their hips meet a few more erratic times and that's enough for both of them to fall over together. Natalie cries out his name in white hot ecstasy and Michael groans, reaching back around to grab her hip again to steady himself.

Natalie collapses on him, breathing hard, and he can feel her trembling, and he's reassured by the little almost unnoticeable spasms that rock through her body that are similar to what his own body is doing in the aftermath of both of their orgasms.

It's a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths, and they're content to just lay against each other in the meantime, even though they're both sweaty and hot.

"It makes sense now," he says after a few minutes, and Natalie raises her head.

"What does?"

"Why humans are so eager to sin."

Natalie rolls off of him laughing, nudging his shoulder.

"Looks like you're a sinner now, too," she jokes, and drops a kiss on her cheek before getting up. He looks at her, confused, and she waves him off. "I'm just going to clean up. I don't wanna be all sticky and sweaty for the rest of the day."

He nods, then looks down at himself. Natalie bites her cheek to keep from grinning, and extends a hand to him.

"C'mon, I'll clean you up, too."

He's not entirely sure what the mischievous spark in her eyes means but he takes her hand regardless.


End file.
